


Rising Action

by acornandroid



Series: Requests [10]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anniversary, Bottom Mike, Florida, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Vacation, anniversary sex, because i can't help myself, but mostly plot to get to the porn, fic request, its very romantic, mike/bill, post chapter 2, there's a bit of plot if you squint, they love each other too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acornandroid/pseuds/acornandroid
Summary: Mike and Bill have been to Florida more times than they can count, but for their first year anniversary Bill really goes all out.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon
Series: Requests [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1089456
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Rising Action

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic request for @ruuhroh because Liz and I keep screaming about Bottom Mike and how that needs more content

“Wow—Bill, this is… _wow_.”

Mike set his bag down just inside the hotel suite, looking around in slight awe. Apparently, Bill’s idea of taking over the trip planning for once meant a stunning hotel that clearly needed reservations ahead of time.

_Way_ ahead of time.

Mike never usually thought that far ahead with his trips. He was a spontaneous kind of traveler. Everything would work out however it was going to when he got there, hotels could be found, or camp sites could be made. He liked that part of traveling—just the wandering from here to there, taking in the sights. In talking about venturing down to Florida for the millionth, Bill seemed more than eager to take the reins in the planning.

It probably had something to do with the fact that they would be officially dating for a year during the time of the trip. A whole year was a big one, at least in Mike’s mind.

They had first gotten together in Florida, a year after Derry and Bill’s divorce being finalized. At least him and Audra were on okay terms. It just hadn’t been working out in a healthy way.

They had fallen together naturally after that. A week of Disney World and the Kennedy Center, tours and tacky matching vacation shirts had sealed the deal. They had kissed in the hotel room at the Animal Kingdom Lodge and had fallen into one bed instead of separate ones.

Everything with Bill just seemed to work naturally in ways Mike could hardly believe.

In Derry, he had never had much time to pursue any form of serious relationship, nor did he really want to with people in that town. Consumed with his task at hand- years after all the other Losers had moved away and he had isolated himself above the library. Let the town say what they wanted about him- stopping It had been far too important.

Now that was over and done with. He and the other Losers had lives to finally live about thirty years far too late.

And apparently- Mike had a walking disaster of a man to date.

He had just witnessed Bill nearly trip over the entry way to the hotel room, catching himself on Mike’s shoulder and giving a huff of a laugh.

“Uh—yeah! Yeah, I saw the place online and thought…why not?” Bill said, having carefully gathered his footing, but was still yet to let go of Mike’s shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze, letting his hand slide down his arm casually before stepping further into the room.

It gave Mike the chance to watch him, his expression softening as he did. He watched Bill put his suitcase on the bed and shrug out of his flannel, tying it around his waist instead. In all honesty, Bill had nice arms. It was one of the first things Mike had noticed when he saw him in short sleeves.

He made his way over once the flannel was safely knotted around his waist, winding his arms around Bill from behind and pulling him close. The way that Bill melted into him immediately was intoxicating, he would never get over it. He dropped his head back onto Mike’s shoulder and let the sigh that left his lips draw the tension out of his body.

“Too early to say, ‘Happy Anniversary’?” Bill murmured with closed eyes and gentle smile.

“I mean- it technically isn’t until tomorrow night. Around nine if we want to get specific.” Mike placed a kiss to his temple, then bowed his head to bestow one to the curve of his neck.

Bill let out a gentle laugh, sliding his hands over Mike’s arms and holding on lightly. “You? Being specific? I’m shocked.” He teased.

Giving one more kiss to his neck, Mike finally withdrew to grab his own suitcase and bring it over towards the bed.

“You got me there.” He pulled the suitcase up onto the bed, opening it up. “So- I know you have plans you haven’t told me. You’ve been pretty tight lipped about this whole trip.”

Bill gave him a knowing smile, closing his own suitcase and pulling it down onto the floor. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re at my mercy for the week, Hanlon.”

It was just a saying, and Mike knew it. Bill was joking in that dry, and honestly kind of lame way that Bill always joked. Even still, it opened the door for Mike to give him a knowing look, raising one brow and letting the small smile creep across his lips. It was very rewarding to watch the faint blush spread across Bill’s cheeks.

He let it be for now, for the sake of Bill’s sanity. Though that was a promise Mike was going to hold him to.

\---

As it turns out, Bill did have pretty decent plans.

They had woken up early the next morning and gone straight down to the beach. They had lunch on the water and spent most of the day doing nothing more than relaxing. Mike had to gently prompt Bill into applying sunscreen more than once.

He had dragged Bill out to the water once the sun touched the middle of the sky, splashing around like they were kids again. They had kissed in the waves, Bill cackling happily when Mike tackled him back into the surf.

Through the expanse of a simple year, Mike settled with the happy realization that not only was Bill a fantastic man all around- but he made him feel young again. Young in a way that told him that all those years holed up in his apartment above the library had not robbed him of his youth. With Bill, despite the prominence of It in both their memories, it almost felt as if Derry had never happened.

Not in a way that they had truly forgotten all over again, but in a way that made it almost feel worthwhile. A nightmarish haze of dark caverns, dark thoughts, and being branded as the local madman. A self-imposed but necessary semi-isolation into soul sucking research and gruesome discovers- both personal and otherwise. For all of its downs and barely-there ups in the past decade or so it was all worth it in the way Bill’s smile caught the sun and the gray streaks in his hair dignified his face in ways Mike could never describe. The delicate wrinkled outlining his defining features and the bright mind full of ideas, more creative than ever, that Mike prayed to whatever deity listening that would never fade.

Bill splashed at him again, and Mike held his arms up in little defense from the oncoming water, giving a laugh.

“Don’t be a d-dick, Hanlon.” Bill was very nearly giggling, in a carefree way that reflected the boy on a bike two sizes too big and rust coating the silver metal that Mike had met all those years ago. His stutter that had returned somewhat as Derry’s mental walls had collapsed with that house. Memories and wounds that one could not shake and would never fully close, but ones that would not define them in the remaining years they had to celebrate.

A stutter that reared its head when Bill spoke too fast or felt too much. During rants, be them creative or angry.

Or when he was truly and deeply happy.

Like words spread out on a page for Mike’s eyes only. There in the sun, surf, and sand Bill Denbrough was his favorite book to read. 

“Wh—Why are you looking at me like that?” He was speaking quickly and without defenses, not in the slow thought out way Bill had grown into over the years. Bill pushed a hand through his wet hair, getting it off of his forehead and slicking it back. A shock strand of gray caught the sun as Mike stepped forward, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Just thinking.” Mike answered, dipping his head to drop a kiss to his salt stained hair.

“Gonna tell me what about…?” Bill’s hands slid up to naturally rest against Mike’s chest, drumming absent patterns like letters being plucked out on an invisible keyboard.

“How happy you make me…”

If Mike had been looking closer, he would have seen Bill’s heart skip a beat. Everything, though it may have been said more than once or twice throughout the year, made Bill feel like he was hearing it for the first time. Be it a simple ‘I love you’, or the gentle way Mike would observe his smile. Mike saying things like he didn’t want to miss them, letting affections and thoughts pour out of his mouth in a way that mirrored his newfound driven nature to enjoy life.

Bill stood on his toes, though it didn’t do much sinking into the sand beneath their feet. The next bob of an oncoming wave helped instead, pushing him up to catch Mike’s lips in another salty kiss in the sea.

Bill didn’t need to be looking to feel Mike’s heart skip beneath his hand.

\---

“I gotta get the room key—”

“You can reach the room key fine—” Mike was laughing against Bill’s mouth, having just pinned him up against the hotel room door in a searing kiss.

They had just gotten back from a romantic dinner. A nice little local place- casual, but still popular enough for reservations. Mike had read about it on a travel blog after their last trip and had talked to his boyfriend nonstop about their signature dishes. Bill had really gone all out in an anniversary surprise and it was only the first full day.

Mike was getting a head start on repaying him.

He broke from Bill’s lips in favor of working desperate kisses down his throat. There was something about the way Bill gasped and squirmed that set Mike off in more ways than one. Desperate little sounds cut off and emphasized all at once by a sharp, happy giggle as Bill finally managed to dig the keycard out of his back pocket and slip it into the door.

There was no graceful ease of a romantic movie scene that got them inside the hotel room. In actuality it took one or two attempts from Bill to get the right sync of putting in the keycard and twisting the door handle while his back was against it (tasks that even a well-coordinated man would have problems with) before Mike reached around and took over. On what had to be the fifth try, murmurings of _no I got it_ and _try and flip it around_ exchanged in the inches between them, Mike got the door open and tripped over the threshold with his boyfriend.

They both laughed with the ease of schoolboys, Mike catching Bill by the front of his shirt to keep him from falling. He used the sway of the motion to step backwards, pressing his own back against the now closed door and yanking Bill against him.

With Bill’s weight now pinning him to the door Mike slid into the rhythm of the next kiss. A whole year of learning about each other, little bits and bobs in behavior that made them who they were.

It was with the ease of this self-taught and pleasant reaction that Bill seized his opportunity, sliding his hands down Mike’s arms before gently grasping his wrists and tugging up. The gasp that slid out deliciously past his now parted lips was devoured happily by Bill’s mouth, pressing Mike’s wrists up against the door and holding them there. His tongue pushed past those plush lips in order to slip teasingly along Mike’s own, tasting him with the knowledge that they had all the time in the world.

Mike pushed his hips forward towards Bill’s with the growing desperation for friction. He twisted his wrists against the grip gently to test it. Bill tightened his hold, but not too hard, and Mike could easily break free if he wanted to.

He never wanted to.

They stayed like that for a good while, lazily rocking against one another as they kissed. The friction wasn’t nearly enough yet, but they weren’t in a hurry. This trip was for them, to take their time with each other deeply and fully.

Bill’s hands shifted just slightly, his fingers pressing lightly over Mike’s pulse point. He could feel it thrumming beneath the pads of his fingers, picking up tempo as Bill took his lower lip between his teeth and tugged.

The sigh that left Mike’s mouth was stunning. Bill wished he could capture that sound forever.

He broke from Mike’s lip to start paying close attention to his throat. The kisses trailing over his skin were slow and searing, near reverent in a way that made any lingering tension ease out of Mike’s body and slip away into oblivion. He dropped his head back against the door with a soft thud, closing his eyes and focusing on Bill’s mouth working thoroughly against his skin. Small movements made in the arching of his back to press just a little closer, a subtle shift of his leg to hook his ankle around Bill’s in an attempt to close the mere millimeters left between their bodies.

A shaking breath left Mike’s lips once Bill’s teeth grazed his skin. Everything Bill did made him breathless and they had only been kissing up against the door for a few minutes. He supposed that was what made Bill so special- the ability to take him apart both with and without words. The ability to etch himself into Mike’s skin with measured movements and upmost care.

Bill released one of Mike’s wrists in favor of moving the neck of his t-shirt aside, mouth working to leave a possessive little mark right below the collar. It would be easily covered by his shirt, but both of them would know it was there.

Mike threaded his fingers through gray streaked hair, tangling them in a loose grip to hold Bill in place. He shifted against the door, pushing his leg between Bill’s and humming in satisfaction as he felt the other man steadily rock against his thigh. 

It was moments like this, the lazy slow build up to something more to come, that Mike adored. Just the feeling of Bill- pressed against him, touching him, kissing him in slow and worshipful ways that made his heart clench in that pleasantly painful way in his chest.

“It’s almost…tangible.” Bill muttered against his collarbone, shifting just a fraction to the left to start working at leaving his mark on a fresh expanse of skin.

“Hmm?” Mike’s hum of a reply was distracted and unfocused, work calloused fingers massaging against his boyfriend’s scalp.

“The way you feel what you feel.” He continued after popping his lips off of Mike’s skin, the sharpness soothed by the coolness of drying saliva. Mike shuddered. “When we get like this. Just us…”

A lazy smile pulled at Mike’s mouth, his free hand sliding from Bill’s hair to cup around the back of his neck. They could barely manage a few sentences in between soft kisses, drunk and dazed on affection.

“Well its usually just us when it gets like this.” Mike’s laugh was a low rumble, finding happiness in hearing Bill’s small chuckle as well.

“You know what I mean—I can…feel how much you love me. I hope you can feel how much I love you…does that make sense?”

“…It does.” He let his hand slide down, counting the bumps of Bill’s spine beneath the soft, light fabric of his shirt.

One more kiss before Bill shifted his touch, sliding his hand up into Mike’s from his wrist and drawing him away from the wall with a couple backwards steps. For a small moment, Mike worried he may fall walking like that- Bill tended to trip over nothing as it was.

Thankfully, the distance to the bed wasn’t that great. Bill walked backwards until the softness of the mattress struck the back of his calves, using that as a sensory guide to sit down on the edge of the bed. Mike move automatically after him, climbing up onto the bed and onto his knees, effectively straddling Bill’s lap in one slow, yet fluid motion.

Bill’s hands traced up his arms, finding their way up to cup Mike’s face and draw him into another kiss. Just as slow and searing as it was up against the door moments before, the pads of Bill’s fingers pressing lightly against the curve of his jaw.

They lingered like that for a few moments longer, the kiss building at a slow, natural pace. Mike’s arms rested loosely around Bill’s shoulders, tightening in careful time as he shifted closer, fingers sliding back into his hair like they belonged there.

Bill certainly thought they did.

It happened in slow motion, Bill laying back as Mike pushed lightly at his chest. He rested atop him comfortable, supporting some of his weight up on his arm as to not crush the air out of Bill’s lungs.

Mike’s hand slid down to Bill’s waist, curling his fingers there thoughtfully and giving a tug. There was a low hum against his lips from the man beneath him. Mike’s book was a story Bill had memorized long ago; he didn’t need to see it laid out in front of him to know exactly what his boyfriend wanted.

He got Mike onto his back with a small push, smiling happily as he flopped onto the mattress easily and shifted back to rest up against the pillows stacked high against the headboard.

The smile that spread across his lips was as soft as morning light.

Bill was certainly saving that description for later.

He slotted himself between his boyfriend’s legs, practiced hands sliding under Mike’s shirt and spreading his fingers over the expanse of his abdomen. It was a trail of touches with a purpose, hiking the shirt up as he went until he was able to pull it free from Mike’s arms and toss it carelessly over his head. There was the sound of plastic wobbling against wood and then a soft thud of something hitting the carpet.

Bill’s shoulders hunched up around his ears immediately, giving a sheepish laugh as Mike peered over to survey the damage.

“Do I want to know?”

“…You managed to knock the lamp off with a shirt, but it’s not broken.” Mike laughed, shaking his head fondly.

Deciding it was best to just shrug it off and get back to the task at hand, Bill leaned back in to claim Mike’s mouth with his own. Now free of the fabric between his touch and Mike’s skin he began to explore, allowing his fingers to drift downwards and skate his touch over the waistband of his jeans.

He swallowed the small hitch in Mike’s breathing, dipping his fingers beneath the taut fabric teasingly before shifting to undo the button one handed.

(Which, considering that this was Bill, did not exactly work out well. There was a laugh before he brought down both hands, getting the button and zipper of Mike’s jeans undone much easier that way.)

“Mm—wait, we’re unevenly matched.” Mike said against his lips, just beginning to dance the borderline of breathlessness. After the statement he reached out, pushing his hands beneath Bill’s shirt with much more determination than Bill himself had displayed before. He tugged the shirt off over his hand, carefully dropping it aside and onto the floor.

“Better now?” Bill asked, sitting up on his knees to tug Mike’s jeans down easier.

“Well now you’ve gone and made it uneven again—”

Mike was laughing, pushing himself up onto his elbows as Bill decidedly did not throw his jeans this time and set them on the floor instead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” Bill took the opportunity to slip out of his own jeans while he was still sitting up, kicking them off and pushing them to the foot of the bed.

Pleased that they were both down to their boxers, Bill leaned in again and kissed Mike _hard_.

The time for their slow build up was coming to an end, both parties growing impatient and over eager as more layers of clothes were shed away.

Touches grew more insistent. Mike’s hands slid from Bill’s shoulders and down, grabbing a handful of his ass and smiling into his mouth at the sound that earned. He pulled their hips together, letting out a hot gasp as Bill started to grind against him with that sharp edge of desperation that would only mean good things.

Mike moved his hands in a slow rhythm- up and down, counting the bumps in Bill’s spine and tracing his touch down his arms. He explored freely, wanting to feel every inch of Bill he could beneath his hands- against him- _in_ him.

That bit would come soon enough.

He nipped at Bill’s lower lip, licking his way into his mouth and treasuring in the moan that slipped into the microscopic space between them. They were here on vacation, and while things were picking up in pace, they were still taking their time. Relearning already well-known bits and bobs about each other. It was noticeable in the way Bill’s hands traced his skin as if he were sculpting Mike out of clay. Noticeable in the way Mike was touching him like he could keep ahold of Bill forever.

His hands moved with a purpose, slipping into the waistband of Bill’s boxers and grabbing at his ass again. He could waste all day touching Bill, just drawing him closer with tactile tendencies birthed from a desire to be noticed—to be _loved_.

Bill had put it best earlier- they loved each other in a way that was nearly tangible. One could look at the pair and simply know, and when they became truly intimate the palpable energy was nearly enough to drown in.

“Okay—okay—I’m gonna need you to get on with it, Denbrough—” Mike broke from his lips, panting softly with a loose smile on his face.

“But I’m enjoying myself.” Bill had a teasing lilt to his voice, working his way down Mike’s neck with his mouth, pressing his tongue possessively against the marks he had left earlier.

“How about you enjoy yourself with fucking me? How does that sound?” Mike arched his back, trying to press closer to Bill’s mouth—to Bill’s _everything_.

He could practically hear the gears in Bill’s mind come to a halt, then creak as they began to turn once again. It wasn’t often that Mike whipped out the blunt requests, but it was their anniversary and he was going to enjoy himself.

“…Yeah. Yeah okay. That sounds good.” Bill seemed to spring into action once his brain got back onboard. He shifted up onto his knees, looking Mike up and down slowly as he reached to pull away the last remaining garment between them.

Mike looked like a dream, spread out against the overly plush pillows at the overly expensive hotel on the water. Bill wanted to take a mental picture and keep it forever. He knew he would never forget this moment, Mike’s gaze hooded as he watched him with a satisfied smile on his face.

Like a cat that had got the cream.

Bill huffed a soft laugh to himself, tossing the boxers away before pushing his own down as well.

“Do I want to know what you just thought?”

“No. You’ll turn it into a dirty joke, and I like my own mental punchline anyways.”

Mike sat up a little and reached out, placing his hands on the fully exposed skin at Bill’s hips. He rubbed his calloused thumb over the sharp line of his hipbone, watching intently as Bill’s eyelids fluttered and a sigh slipped past his lips. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Bill liked his hands- that was very obvious from the first time they had ever had sex.

For the first few times, Mike had actually topped. He had grown accustomed to it during the few and far between times he had actually ventured out when the craving for physical contact got to be too much. People liked to assume things about him, and with the shadow of self-doubt aided by a killer space clown hanging over his head he had chosen one assumption to battle at a time.

It wasn’t a problem, or a turn off of any sort. Mike didn’t _mind_ topping; it just wasn’t his preference. None of his previous encounters had meant enough to open up to regardless. It was a battle he could avoid and one that saved him time.

Then Bill had come back into his life. Bill with his trusting face and natural born leadership. Bill who had left his wife and traveled the world with him, surprising Mike at every twist and turn just when he thought he had figured him out.

When they had finally spoken about it the switch had turned out to be a mutual, unspoken desire. They probably could have gotten to it from day one, but unpacking issues took more time than a suitcase back from a long trip.

For the first time, Mike could honestly say he loved his sex life- and Bill would whole heartedly agree.

They had probably brought along more condoms and lube than would be considered decent, but after The Incident in Venice they had mutually decided not to take any more chances. Bill’s lips drew him out of his thoughts, kissing him with the slow methodical movements of a man concentrating on more than one task. Mike gasped a little, because it was _cold_ —

“Sorry.” Bill mumbled against his mouth, pushing his finger past the tight ring of muscles which earned a breathy sound of a different sort.

“No—no it’s okay. Its good.” Mike brought his hand up, cupping the back of Bill’s neck and drawing him back into a slow, burning kiss.

Since Mike could remember, Bill had always been good with his hands. Perhaps, maybe, not so much his hands, but his _actions_. Mike could recall a frustrated boy with one too many words to say and a voice that blocked them selfishly from being heard. He had watched Bill grow during their friendship, discovering different ways to get his point across with gestures, touches, and movements.

Those same hands that built worlds took Mike apart bit by well-crafted bit.

He found pleasure in the way Bill left him a shuddering, gasping mess by simply working him open. There was a warm sort of self-confidence feeling the hardness of Bill’s cock against his hip. Something about knowing his reactions did just as much for Bill as the man himself did for him was dizzying. Bill had a way of making him feel good— making him feel _sexy_ just by enjoying himself.

The whine that left Mike’s throat at the loss of Bill’s fingers was subconscious, feeling the echoing groan in Bill’s chest at the close distance. He curled his fingers into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, opening his eyes slowly.

“I wanna look at you while—” Bill said, suddenly, “Here- move your legs—”

“I’m not twenty anymore, Bill. My legs don’t bend that way the same—” Mike laughed breathlessly, shifting back against the pillows. He felt Bill’s hands against the back of his thighs, pulling his legs further apart and up a little higher around his waist.

It was a bit of fumbling, and a bit of laughing and further rearranging. Nothing was every perfect each time.

Mike wouldn’t have it any other way.

This wouldn’t be Bill without the fumbling and occasional clumsiness. It was his trademark, to scatter fond awkwardness everywhere he went with badly timed dad jokes and nearly tripping over most uneven surfaces. It was a constant reminder that this was the man he loved, here with him and nowhere else.

Someone, who when Mike found the desire to slow down and settle, he could actually see himself spending the rest of his life with.

That was a commitment for another anniversary though. They still had destinations to visit.

When Bill finally pushed into him, Mike couldn’t help but still and moan, his blunt nails digging into the sun kissed skin at Bill’s shoulders. He’d never get used to this in the best of ways- being stretched and filled in a way that made his head spin. An ability to be so close to the man he loved and feel so complete all within the same moment.

Bill bottomed out, leaning down to mouth at Mike’s jaw with greedy lips. They stayed like that for a few moments, hot puffs of breath between them, painting Mike’s skin with what felt like steam, sweat already beading at the surface in the humidity of the Florida room. He couldn’t find words, eyes closed tight and the mantra of his boyfriend’s name on the broken record in his head. Instead, Mike gave a desperate little roll of his hips.

Bill’s grin could be felt against his shoulder, his hands moving up and down Mike’s thighs in slow, rhythmic strokes.

It was going to be one of _those_ times then. Mike breathed in slowly through his nose, trying to roll his hips again as a physical indication.

But no, Bill wanted _words_.

“Bill…” Mike grabbed at his back, pulling his boyfriend’s chest down against his own. Closer- just closer— _closer_ —

“Hmm?” Bill nipped at his shoulder, kissing once- then twice. Teasing little pecks. “What is it, Mike?”

“ _Bill_ —” He caught the name in the back of his throat, his hand moving down to Bill’s hips to try and push at them insistently, “ _Please._ ”

“…Since you asked nicely.” Bill lifted his head, looking every part of the smug bastard he was acting. He pressed his lips against Mike’s once more in a filthy, desperate kiss before he began to move his hips.

The pace was slow at first. Bill was always good at this- the buildup, the lead in, the tension growing.

Bill fucked like he wrote. Agonizingly slow in a way that left you wanting more. Bait at the end of each page to keep you turning it, a sharp rise in movement and plot- leading you to the peak of the action before pushing you over.

It left Mike wanting, as always. He wanted the story—he wanted its sequel, prequels, mid-quels and end-quels and whatever-quels. Anything and everything that Bill touched and crafted he wanted.

He left reviews in the pants of breath, the moaning of Bill’s name, in the marks his nails trailed down his skin and the sweat dripping across his forehead. He sang praises in the form of sighs and shouts, and recommended it in the way he locked his legs around Bill’s waist and drew him closer—closer— _closer_ —

The one difference in Bill’s fucking from his writing is that the endings were _fucking spectacular_.

Mike was half certain the people in the neighboring room could hear his borderline yell when Bill angled his hips differently, his cock striking the tight set of nerves that made him see stars. He grabbed onto his boyfriend with shockingly more force than before, his back arching off the pillows in a way that would make him ache tomorrow.

There was only a distant awareness to his own muttering. A tangled mess of _‘please’s_ and ‘ _yes’s_ left his lips in a constant stream, a few _‘again’s_ dropped in for variation and some ‘ _fuck’s_ to keep it interesting.

Bill’s thrusts grew more erratic, more driven, his hand winding around Mike’s neglected cock and stroking in time. That edge was coming closer. Mike could see the rising action mapped out before him and—

The climax nearly ripped the wind out of him. Mike cried out his boyfriend’s name, dragging him close and dropping his head back into the pillows at the same time. Bill followed soon after, the sensory overload of sight, sound, and touch growing to be all too much.  
  


They collapsed into a panting, sweaty mess. Mike’s arms winding loosely around Bill, feeling his head pillowed against his chest. For a good while they remained that way, sharing heavy breath and the pounding of each other’s hearts.

When Mike slowly started coming to once again, he could feel Bill’s fingers tracing the shape of idle letters on his arm. He closed his eyes to focus as best he could, following the repeating pattern with his mind’s eye.

The ‘I’ was obvious, as was the ‘L’ after it, and the ‘O’. A lazy smile spread across Mike’s lips, sighing out his verbal reply.

“Yeah. I love you too.” Mike murmured, hugging Bill tight, feeling the smile and the kiss pressed to the center of his chest.

Bill pulled out finally, getting up after just one more soft kiss to dispose of the condom and grab a clean towel. He wiped off Mike’s stomach gently, brushing the towel teasingly against his cock once just to watch him jump and swat at him lightly.

Once he tossed the towel aside to be dealt with later, he curled himself back into Mike again. Bill’s head found its natural way to rest against Mike’s chest, tucked comfortably under his chin. They settled into the soft afterglow, listening to the waves and the chatter outside of the hotel balcony. The window had been left open a crack, leaving the soft ivory curtains to sway gently in the breeze.

“…Happy anniversary.” Mike murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Bill’s hair, slicked back and damp with sweat. He didn’t mind.

“…Yeah.” Bill said, a gentle smile on his lips. “Happy anniversary, Mikey.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @acornandroid on Twitter if you wanna come chat about IT because I'm in this hell still


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